


Barrowman, I swear if you do that one more time

by Newra_Skylarke



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-11
Updated: 2009-07-11
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:46:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6638245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newra_Skylarke/pseuds/Newra_Skylarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David wishes he’d kept his big mouth shut. Sequel to “I’ll show you fucking intimidated”. Can stand-alone but makes more sense if you read that one first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barrowman, I swear if you do that one more time

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Human Nature](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Human_Nature). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in January 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [Human Nature collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/humannature/profile).
> 
> * * *
> 
> As requested by petit_fox! Feedback is love.

“Alright, back in the prop box, David, can you please stop rocking it when you come out. I know there isn’t a lot of room for five people, but the faster we get the shot done, the faster you can get out of it.” Russell was looking amused. He’d heard about David’s little run in with John. There was a rumour circling that it had happened, but Russell knew, because John had warned him that there might be some disruption to the schedule, due to David giving him an idea for a prank.   
  
David grumbled and stormed into the box, deliberately throwing his weight against the side of it to be annoying. John followed him in, winking at Russell. David was getting wound up, and knew that even once they “got the shot” they were going to have to do it again, because it wouldn’t do for the Doctor to have an erection. Giving John the perfect excuse to torment him some more inside the prop box. What didn’t help was that John had been flirting shamelessly with him all morning, and throwing coy looks when no one was looking. And there were rumours, all of them true he noticed flying around the set. He suspected that John himself had started them, or had told someone gleefully and been overheard. People kept asking him, and he wasn’t sure whether he should be denying all knowledge or agreeing.   
  
John was replying with “Would you like it to be true?” when he was asked, which didn’t help David decide what he should be saying in response to “Is it true you had sex with John on Friday night?” and “Was he any good?” and “Did Scott really join in?”  
  
The three girls trooped into the Tardis prop box, laughing slightly at David’s sulking. They had heard the rumours, and knew they were true, Casanova and Captain Jack, what a pair. John settled against David and the other three crammed into the tiny box.   
  
“Fucking sardines we are.” David grumbled.   
  
“Oh stop your whining.” Catharine quipped, reaching over John to flick David round the ear, “accidentally” pushing John further into David. David groaned and narrowed his eyes at her as the other four giggled. He jabbed John in the back, trying to get the infernal man’s arse away from his crutch.  
  
“Ooh girls, I’ve got something jabbing me in the back.” John said, innuendo dripping from his voice. David sighed in frustration, banging on the side of the prop box.  
  
“Can we start now please?” he yelled, wanting to get this over and done with so he could have a word with Russell about moving the script order so John wasn’t able to grind his hips into him in the way he was doing right at that moment.   
  
“John for god’s sake, please – ” he implored, begging John to stop it. John did, momentarily, before pressing the length of his body against David, effectively pinning him and preventing him from moving.   
  
The girls were giggling again. There was no way they would start the shot until they had stopped. And that was going to take a while. Freema was laughing uncontrollably, and David had to bite back a moan of frustration as John ground back against him, deliberately running his hand up David’s thigh as he did so.   
  
“Oh why did I give you the idea for this?” David hissed in John’s ear, still trying to prise the man’s backside off his genitalia, with very little success.   
  
“Just couldn’t keep that gorgeous mouth of yours shut could you David.” John replied, grinding back again.   
  
898989898989898988989898989898989898989898989898989898989898989898989  
  
Outside the box the crew could hear the girls laughing and David getting grumpier. There was a moment of silence and then –  
  
“BARROWMAN, I SWEAR IF YOU DO THAT ONE MORE TIME!” David’s voice erupted from the prop box and Billie, Freema, Catherine and John almost fell out of the box practically crying with mirth. David followed them, looking pissed, trying to use the Doctor’s long coat as a sort of shield.   
  
“You arse!” he exclaimed, pointing at John, who simply shrugged and said:  
  
“Didn’t hear you complaining on - ” he started, slight seduction in his voice.  
  
“Shut up.” David stormed off in the direction of his trailer, presumably, every one assumed, because the bulge in his trousers needed rectifying. John laughed and sauntered after him cockily, presumably, every one assumed, to help.   
  
898989898989898989898989898989898989898989898989898989898989898989898  
  
David slammed the door to his trailer, shucking out of the long brown coat. He dumped it unceremoniously on a chair; despite knowing he would have hell to pay with wardrobe. _Fuck wardrobe … I’m about to have a wank in costume, a crumpled coat is the least of their worries._ He walked through to the bathroom area of the trailer, when he heard the door open. He groaned.  
  
“Bugger off. I will be out in five minutes.” He yelled, really hoping it wasn’t someone to drag his ass back to the set to sort out the damned shoot in the fucking prop box.   
  
He heard the door close and sighed. _Peace. Finally._ He undid the fly on his trousers, just as the bathroom door opened to reveal John’s amused smile.   
  
“Want a hand with that?” he said, glancing down at the rock hard cock in David’s hand.   
  
David lunged at him, knocking him straight to the floor with an “oof”.   
  
“You are a complete bastard do you know that?” David hissed, pinning John’s arms to the floor above his head. “I am as horny as hell, and it is all your fault.” He accentuated the point by grinding his hips down into John’s making him groan.   
  
“And what are you going to do about it?” John asked brazenly.   
  
“I am going to fuck you into the floor of this trailer.” David replied, his eyes flashing as he kissed John forcefully.   
  
John groaned. “Wardrobe will throw a fit and a half.”  
  
“And I will blame you.”   
  
898989898989898989898989898989898989898989898989898989898989898989898  
  
“David?” Billie’s voice was small and tentative as she opened the trailer door. She had drawn the short straw and had to be the one to find out if David was going to some back and finish the shoot. And John for that matter.   
  
She heard a small scuffle and reluctantly stuck her head around the door, only for her jaw to drop. John and David were lying on the floor, and David was unmistakably shagging John. She could see everything. They were completely oblivious to her presence, until John noticed the cool air from the door and looked right at her. He smirked, keeping David occupied and dismissing Billie with a clear hand signal.  
  
 _Five_.  
  
She left, closing the door quietly before running off back to the set to tell Russell that the two would be back in five minutes. She was bright red. She told Freema and Catherine what she had seen and the three of them giggled and laughed, especially when John and David finally returned to the set, looking distinctly ruffled. Wardrobe and Make-up were all over them, tutting and chiding them, and of course asking for the gossip. After all, what’s a good grope (or in this instance shag) if there was no gossip afterwards? And with the country’s fittest actors as the subject of the gossip, what could be better?  
  
  
The End


End file.
